


Good Touch

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [198]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Sam is touch starved, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 21:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8073724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Sam really needs to be touched.And Benny wants to give it to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is another piece from Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings for touch starvation.

Most of the time, Sam’s okay. He’s…well, he manages. Sure, he feels empty and alone, and his skin prickles uncomfortably with some sort of need, maybe a loss sometimes. But he’s okay.

Until Benny starts touching him.

It starts simple. Platonic. Pats on the shoulder, friendly nudges towards food or coffee in the morning, or just for no reason at all. Whatever it is, it’s more than Sam’s had in…a long time. Well, Amelia, he supposes, but they weren’t particularly tactile, neither of them, bridging their isolation with words and sheer presence more than touch, as if touching it would shatter whatever calm they managed to produce.

But Benny’s touch is different. It makes Sam stop in his tracks, feel something so long buried. And then it _grows_. Benny touches him more, and more, and soon enough it’s not platonic anymore, they’re moving into something else and Sam barely understands how. 

Benny lands one big hand on Sam’s shoulder, gently sliding it along his arm. “Ya always jump when I touch ya,” he observes. “Do ya not like it? Ya should say something, Sam.”

Sam shakes his head, one step from frantic. “No!” he says. “No, I like it. I do. It’s just…it’s a lot. I haven’t…it’s been…”

He trails off, but Benny seems to get it. “So, less?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head again. “More?” he asks, voice quiet, almost shy, because _asking_ for things…

If there is anyone he can ask, though, it will be Benny.

Benny kisses his shoulder, where his hand just was, and even through two layers of cloth, Sam shivers. “Tell me if it gets too much,” he says softly, and then immediately moves to pulling Sam closer, and working his shirts off at the same time.

They end up on the bed, clothes gone. Benny had just been going for the shirts, but feeling Benny’s skin had been mind-numblingly good, _pure_ , so Sam said, _“more more more_ ,” and now they’re here, clothes gone entirely. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other naked, and some part of Sam appreciates the view. Most of him, however, is focused on _skin._

Then they’re spooned together, Benny holding him close, big arms wrapped around Sam. One large hand strokes along his arm, then his chest. His leg slides over Sam’s.

“How’s that feel?” Benny asks, voice a low rumble next to Sam’s ear.

Sam shudders. “Good,” he manages.

Benny rubs at his stomach, his hips, back up, taking each hand in turn and squeezing it before rubbing up his arms. He kisses Sam’s neck and shoulders, under his jaw. “How’s that?” he asks.

Sam manages to answer in the affirmative again, although how he’s not sure. He’s shaking again. Always shaking. Shaking when he doesn’t have this, with the denial, now shaking when he has it. His system is overwhelmed, he supposes dimly. Maybe he’ll settle down, eventually.

Some part of him doubts it, doubts he could ever become accustomed to this, that there could ever be enough.

“Got’cha,” Benny says quietly in his ear. “Got’cha, Sam, and I ain’t lettin’ go. You’re good. You good?”

Sam nods, face pressed into the pillow oddly, eyes closed now. The better to feel it all, if he’s not distracted by his sight, although he couldn’t tell anyone when he closed them.

Benny keeps touching him. Pressed to the entire length of Sam’s body, one leg slung over his, hands roaming and just touching skin, every inch of Sam’s torso. Surprisingly, shockingly, Sam eventually loses most of the shake, until it’s just a gentle tremor.

“Good,” Benny croons. He kisses Sam’s ear. “Ya don’t let it get this bad again, Sugar,” he says quietly. “’Cause I’m always here for this, get me? Always. Always touch ya just how ya need.”

Sam nods once more, exhausted now.

Benny kisses his jaw this time. “Maybe ya should sleep,” he suggests. “Wore ya right out, huh? That’s okay. I’ll still be here, right here, when ya wake up.”

Sam believes him, absolutely believes him, that he won’t take the touch away, and that allows him to close his eyes, and rest better than he has in ages.


End file.
